


The Fan

by azriona



Series: Advent Calendar Drabbles 2014 [15]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 221B Ficlet, Advent Calendar Drabble, F/M, Other, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 14:49:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2777093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azriona/pseuds/azriona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock Holmes meets a fan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Katey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katey/gifts).



> The fifteenth installment of the Advent Calendar Drabbles, and another 221b. Most fics are titled with the prompt. Today’s prompt is from engelkate (kassna on Tumblr) who requested fans and cosplay. I am sure this is exactly what she meant.

I can barely believe my luck when they bring me into his room.  He’s even more beautiful in person – and when he turns away from the window, all straining buttons and swishing dressing gown, I can see the relieved excitement in his eyes.

 

“Perfect,” he breathes, his eyes on me and me alone.  I’m trembling when they sit me down.  He sits on the chair opposite me, leaning in.  His eyes – they’re as gorgeous as I’ve always heard, and right now they’re looking at me as if I’m the only thing in the world he’s ever wanted. 

 

He reaches for me, runs his hand down my spine.  His fingers are delicate, just skimming as they pass over my body, and though his touch is clearly exploratory, it’s as if he knows and understands me already.  _Oh, God_ , I think. 

 

That’s all it really takes.  Just a flick of his thumb in the right place, and…. _oh_.

 

The groan he makes matches my own stutter. There’s words on his lips: a prayer perhaps, maybe a half-broken plea, begging for further relief.  “ _Yes_.”

 

I am so turned on I can’t even stay still.  I spin around without stopping; his curls blow gently back from his flushed face.

 

“It’s a _fan_ , Sherlock,” says Watson.

 

“Go away, John,” says Sherlock, and leans deeper into my breeze.

 


End file.
